


Where The Heart Lives

by ArtemisMoonsong



Series: The (Really and Truly Inspiring) Story of Casien Yedlin [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Fantastic Racism, Fluff, Found Family, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-24 20:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20913545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisMoonsong/pseuds/ArtemisMoonsong
Summary: One week ago, Casien Yedlin returned to Windhelm with his husband-to-be, a man who just so happens to be the jarl of Windhelm and the future High King of Skyrim. Despite being deeply in love and happy about the choice he's made, he still finds himself struggling to fit into his new life here in the palace.Takes place between Book 1 and Book 2.





	Where The Heart Lives

I wanted to sleep past dawn but couldn’t. So, as I had every morning since returning to Windhelm, I lay on my back, gazed up at the ceiling, and let my thoughts roam as they would.

I experienced the constant agony of anxiety, of whether to get up and do something or stay where I was. Suppose I should get up out of bed yet wake my lover? He was an important person who clearly needed his sleep. I had already gotten up to use the toilet, then had tiptoed back to bed as silently as I possibly could. I felt silly for doing so—yet I was unused to sharing my bed with someone—sharing my _life_ with someone, really.

I listened to the sound of the waves slapping lazily against the stone walls of the palace, the gulls calling back and forth to one another, and was very near to falling back asleep when I felt an arm slowly and lazily curl itself around my waist, a prickly beard and soft pair of lips nuzzling my cheek.

I smiled—then froze, for those lips were doing more than nuzzling, and that hand was now lowering past my waist.

We had never done this in the morning before.

He seemed to sense my unease, for his hand paused, fingertips then tickling my side as he lifted his head to smile down at me. I smiled back, so he leaned in to kiss me. It was a slow, sweet kiss, and I felt my desire finally rising to meet his own. Doing this in the morning wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

“You’re not going to be late?” I asked afterward, still curled up in the blankets and furs and watching as he padded around the room to get dressed.

“My nine o’clock meeting was canceled,” he said, pausing to tie the laces of his trousers before reaching for a clean undershirt. I sighed, quietly admiring the strength and breadth of his bare back and shoulders.

“But you have your petitioners at 10,” I said slowly, for I was steadily beginning to memorize his daily schedule, though, of course, it was not always the same.

“Yes,” came the absent reply.

I smiled when he finally came back to me and leaned down to plant one last kiss against my lips.

“And what are your plans for the day?” he asked, straightening.

“Me?”

I blinked up at him. Since returning to Windhelm, I hadn’t done much of anything, to be honest. I no longer had a position here as a servant, so I wasn’t technically _required_ to do anything. I suppose I was still a student, but the college was now leagues away, and I hadn’t any books or teachers. But mostly, I had been too nervous to leave the apartment for long. I was wary of running into any of the other servants, let alone the other people who happened to share the third floor with us—his family and friends, that is.

“Yes,” he said, sitting down on the side of the bed after a moment, a little smile coming to his face. “You.” He cupped my face with one hand, his thumb stroking my cheek. I resisted the urge to lean into his touch. “The others are anxious to get to know you. Perhaps you might consider indulging them.”

“Others?” I sat up, a little startled by this news. “What others?”

“Lia and the girls. Jorleif’s wife expressed interest as well. Some of the generals and their families who are still here are also curious, but we can save that for later, along with the Shatter-Shields, Cruel-Seas, Free-Winters, and other noble families.”

I was glad of that much, at least. I’d honestly had no idea I would be expected to mingle with such people. Then again, I’m not sure _what_ I’d been thinking. That I should be kept here, locked away, like the jarl’s dirty little secret?

A secret that everyone already knew about, apparently.

“Why don’t you have breakfast with Lia and the girls this morning,” he said, after a moment. “Then perhaps one of them can show you around the palace.”

“I already know my way around the palace,” I said, probably sounding a bit surly in the process. “I used to work here, remember?”

“Yes,” came the surprisingly gentle reply. “But you do not work here anymore.”

And there was the great difference. I was no longer a servant—I was the intended of the jarl of Windhelm, and future High King of Skyrim. There were sections of the palace which had been entirely off-limits to me when I was a servant. And now, I suspected, there were sections I had previously navigated which would now be considered inappropriate for me to visit.

“All right,” I finally agreed, though I did my best to hide my nervousness.

After he left, I finally got out of bed and dressed slowly, for I was in no hurry to present myself to his family. I ignored the now cold breakfast which was waiting outside the apartment door and instead made my way across the hallway and towards what I now knew to be the family dining room. I wasn’t sure if I should knock or not before entering, so I compromised. I knocked, then quietly let myself inside.

I recognized Lia, Galmar’s wife, immediately; she sat at the head of the table. She looked up as soon as I entered, a faint smile on her face that quickly disappeared when she saw me. But I think this was more from surprise than anything.

Four other pretty young faces looked up at me, all of them displaying varying degrees of surprise and curiosity.

“Casien!” said Lia, smiling again. “Come and join us. We were just sitting down ourselves.”

I came forward, hesitantly, and couldn’t help smiling myself when young Nella waved me enthusiastically over, bidding me to sit down beside her.

“I was wondering when we’d see you,” she said, before I’d even pulled my chair back up to the table.

“It isn’t fair that Uncle’s been hoarding you all to himself,” said one of her sisters, a round-faced girl with dark, braided hair.

“Yes,” said another, “I can’t _imagine_ what you’ve been doing in there together,” and that set both her and the dark-haired sister off giggling.

“Girls,” said Lia sharply, putting an abrupt end to the giggling. “So,” she continued, smiling at me again, “How are you enjoying the palace?”

“It’s very nice,” I said, unsure if she knew that I had already been employed here for over a year before the king had asked me to marry him.

“Were you not already a servant here?” asked the eldest, a solemn-faced blond girl of rather extraordinary beauty—the second eldest, I thought, and one who had gone to war with her father, sister, and uncle.

“Yes,” I said, a little surprised that her mother didn’t reprimand her for bringing up what I felt must surely be an inappropriate topic for discussion.

“In the kitchens?” she asked. “Before you and Uncle—well, before Uncle brought you upstairs.”

“I was in the kitchens for quite some time,” I said, blushing at the implication of her words. “But then I was brought to the second floor to work under Griselda.”

“_I _shouldn’t like to work for Griselda,” said the dark-haired sister. “She’s always so stern and serious.”

“She was all right,” I said, smiling a little. “She wasn’t unkind.”

“You’re very young,” said the other middle-sister. “Though I can’t always tell with elves. Are you much younger than Uncle?”

“A bit,” I said, for I felt that this topic was now even more awkward than the previous one.

“I _like_ that you aren’t old,” said Nella, beaming at me. “It’s nice to have another person our age around.”

“He’s hardly _your_ age,” said Una, rolling her eyes. “You’re Ania’s age, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“It would be strange to be in love with an older man,” said the dark-haired girl.

“It would be strange to be in love with _Uncle_,” said the other, and they both giggled together at the thought.

Lia had been watching this exchange with some curiosity, and apparently whatever I had said—or perhaps the way I had said it—had satisfied her, and she resumed buttering the piece of toast in her hand.

“You learned a great deal at this college he sent you to, I presume?” she asked.

“Yes, my lady,” I said, still too nervous to reach for any food myself. Luckily, Nella took pity on me and began to eagerly pile my plate high with fruit, toast, and all manner of breakfast meats.

Lia made an amused sound in her throat.

“There’s no need for any of _that_,” she said. “You are the jarl’s intended. If anything, it is _we_ who ought to address _you_ as ‘my lord’.”

“…Please don’t,” I said, trying to ignore the astonished looks her daughters were giving me. Apparently, the thought of addressing a Dunmer as “my lord” was beyond their previous scope of comprehension.

Lia’s lips twitched ever so slightly.

“Very well. But then you will do me the honor of returning the favor. We shall all soon be family, after all.”

“Do you know when you and Uncle shall be married?” asked the blond.

“No,” I admitted. “He hasn’t really mentioned it.

“I wonder if he’s changed his mind,” said one of the middle sisters.

“He hasn’t!” said Nella, appearing greatly aggrieved at the mere suggestion of this occurring. “Uncle loves Casien, I’m sure of it.”

“As am I,” said Lia, that amused twinkle back in her eyes as she glanced at me. “Una,”—the blond girl looked up—“perhaps you might show Casien around the palace after breakfast.”

Una looked as though this were the very last way she wanted to spend her morning, but she clearly possessed a maturity her sisters hadn’t yet reached, and merely offered a polite ‘Yes, Mother,’ before returning to her breakfast.

Once we both finished eating, I said good-bye to the others and followed Una out of the dining room.

“Where would you like to go first?” she asked.

I wasn’t really sure how to answer, for the tour had been her mother’s idea, not mine.

“I don’t know,” I finally said. “Do you have any favorite places?”

“Not really.” She glanced down at my tunic and trousers as we walked, a vaguely disdainful look on her face that I don’t think she meant for me to see. “Have you been to the tailor’s?”

“No,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if she meant any tailor or if she had a specific one in mind—either way, the answer was still ‘No’.

She nodded and led me down the main set of stairs to the second floor; we passed a number of guests who paused to nod and smile politely at her, or to sometimes even offer her a greeting. She responded in turn. None of the guests ever acknowledged me or bothered to ask who I was, and Una didn’t seem to think it necessary to introduce me.

We made our way down the second flight of stairs to the first floor, heading down a long hallway before pausing in front of a large door. Una reached for the handle and opened it without knocking or being bid to enter; after a moment’s hesitation, I followed.

“Lady Una!”

The small man sitting behind a table laden with bolts of fabric jumped to his feet and hurried over towards us.

“How are you, my dear? Have you need of a new dress or tunic? I’ve just received a few absolutely _gorgeous_ patterns from Cyrodiil.”

“Master Arius,” said Una. “This is Casien Yedlin, my uncle’s intended.”

“Oh?”

He turned to look at me, his eager expression fading somewhat as his brows furrowed slightly in confusion.

“Ah! Yes… Yes, I did not know if the rumors were true! Well! Well…”

He continued to eye me, apparently unsure of what else to say on the matter. I could feel my face warming, for I had little doubt his consternation had more to do with my being Dunmer than anything.

Una, to my surprise, actually looked annoyed.

“I don’t believe my mother is very fond of rumors,” she said. “I’m sure she would be very disappointed to hear that you indulge in them, Master Arius.”

“Oh! Of course, my lady! I spoke only in jest, of course! Does the, ah… young lord need anything from me this morning?”

“His measurements, perhaps?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

The little tailor gave a start and a forced laugh before hurrying to grab his measuring tape from amongst the bolts of cloth. I was then subjected to ten minutes or so of his touching me in the oddest places, drawing his measuring tape across my body, muttering to himself, and pausing to jot the numbers down in a little notebook. I gave a little start and actually jumped back when he appeared to put his hand in a rather inappropriate place; the tailor looked confused, and Una couldn’t seem to help the laugh that slipped out.

“It’s only your inseam,” she explained. “He’s going to need it if you ever want a pair of trousers that actually fit you.”

I wasn’t sure if she was implying that the clothes I had on now didn’t quite fit, but if she were—I supposed she wasn’t exactly wrong, for I had never had clothing made specifically for my body alone. It was rather a novel concept.

“I’m sorry about Master Arius,” she said, once we took our leave of the tailor. “I didn’t realize he would be so… well. I guess I didn’t realize he would treat you so rudely.”

“I didn’t think he was rude,” I said, blushing because I really didn’t care to talk about such things.

She cast me a curious look.

“He was dreadfully rude,” she said, clearly having no qualms about disagreeing with me. “He thinks Uncle is lowering himself by engaging himself to you. It’s horrible.”

“…You don’t agree with him?” I asked, though I’m not sure why I did, for it was clear that she did not.

“Of course not. I don’t mind elves at all.” She made a funny little face, her mouth twisting slightly. “That came out wrong. I just mean that I don’t mind if Uncle marries one. Besides, Mother said she didn’t think Uncle would ever marry, so you must be awfully special if you made him change his mind about it.”

This was rather a lot to think on, so I followed her silently now as she led the way down another hallway. I had no idea what our next stop might be, and was a little surprised when we entered the yard, the bright mid-morning sunlight causing me to squint and shield my eyes.

“I’m not much of a fighter,” I ventured, hoping she wasn’t thinking of sparring with me. I didn’t think so, for though she was a soldier, she wasn’t dressed for sparing, her long hair hanging loose behind her instead of in the braid I usually saw her wearing.

“That’s what Father says,” she said. “Though he also said you’re a quick learner. You’re just too little and timid to fight. You haven’t a warrior’s heart.”

I felt simultaneously complimented and insulted by this, and my confusion must have shown on my face, for she added, glancing at me, “Don’t feel bad. Soldering isn’t for everyone. My younger sisters don’t care for it, and neither does Mother.”

“Your uncle wanted me to learn,” I said, hurrying to keep up with her as we dodged soldiers and servants in the yard.

“Uncle was just worried about you, I think. Father wanted him to take you with him, but he refused.”

“I’m glad,” I said, surprised to learn that Galmar had ever pushed for anything of the sort. “I don’t think I want to have anything to do with war, if I’m honest.”

“Didn’t you miss Uncle?”

“Oh… very much. But he wrote to me. And I learned a lot while I was at school, too.”

“You enjoy learning?”

I thought this was such an odd question, I wasn’t quite sure how to answer it.

“…I suppose,” I finally managed.

“I guess you and Uncle are alike, then.”

We finally came to a large field, past the soldiers’ yard and quite beyond the palace itself. There were a few large trees scattered about, but the field was very open, for the most part. Wooden fences separated it in places, and a large stone wall, the same that surrounded the city proper, encircled the whole of the immense property.

There were also horses, along with the occasional goat or donkey, grazing here and there. These weren’t the stolid farm horses I sometimes saw just outside the city, but great war horses, elegant yet powerful. Una came up towards one of the fences and leaned against it, whistling.

“I should have brought a few apples,” she said. “Maybe we can ask the horse master if she has any.”

I came to stand hesitantly beside her, watching in trepidation as some of the horses began walking towards us, their ears pricked forward, tails swishing behind them. They were high-spirited creatures, occasionally kicking and nipping at one another. I lived in terror of one of their hoofs smashing into me, but Una seemed unconcerned, and had a wide smile on her face, her hand stretched out so they could nuzzle it, their lips plucking at her empty fingers.

“Go on,” she said. “You can pet them if you like.”

“That’s okay,” I said, keeping my arms tightly crossed and trying not to grimace when one began to whuffle curiously at my hair.

Once again, Una fixed me with a curious look.

“Are you afraid of them?” she asked.

“No,” I said, flinching as the one nipping at my hair blew hot air at me with its nostrils. “Maybe a little.”

“Goodness.”

She seemed at a loss then, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do with me. After a moment, she clapped her hands, startling the horses—which I think was the point—and then shooing them away. She turned to me, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

“Have you been to the library?” she asked after a moment.

I immediately perked up.

“There’s a library?”

She grinned.

“Follow me.”

Back through the yard we went, and this time I noticed more than a few soldiers pausing to admire us—_her_, that is—as we passed. Una ignored them all, though I don’t think she was unaware of their interest. We reentered the palace, and she led me back up the stairs, though this time we stayed on the second floor. She took me past the guest rooms to a wing of the palace I had never been to. Finally, she opened the door at the end of the hallway and revealed a small room overlooking the eastern side of the city and the bay. There were several shelves of books, along with a few desks, chairs, and sofas. There was a cozy fireplace in one corner, and I wondered that it hadn’t ever been my responsibility to tend it.

“This is amazing,” I said, as I slowly entered the room, my head turning in every direction. I could see that the books were shelved according to subject, too, and were alphabetized according to author, just as they were in the jarl’s study. There was a section on history, religion, politics, literature… I knew I could easily lose myself here for hours. No, _days_.

I turned to face Una, and she was still standing in the doorway, her lips pressing a thin little smile into her amused face.

“You _are_ like Uncle,” she said, finally laughing. “No wonder he likes you. Father is always making fun of him for loving his ‘books and poetry and all that nonsense’.” She snorted, clearly not sharing her father’s opinion.

“I think we do have that in common,” I said, smiling and even flushing a little, for it made me happy to think of this little love he and I shared with one another.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it then.” She started to turn away, but then paused. “You and Uncle should join us for dinner sometimes, you know. And even when Uncle and Father or Mother have to eat downstairs, you should still come. It can’t be much fun eating alone in your room.”

“All right,” I said, warmed by the invitation.

“And come and get me if you ever want to know where anything else in the palace is. Or if you just want to talk. My room is two doors down from Mother and Father’s. _Don’t_ bother knocking on Ania’s.” She rolled her eyes. “She’ll only want to talk about fighting and hunting and boring stuff like that.”

“Noted,” I said, trying not to laugh.

“Well, enjoy. I’ll see you around.”

She waved before leaving, and I waved back. After a moment, I turned to face the nearest bookshelf. I ran my fingers reverently over the spines, pausing when I found a title that interested me. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to pull out more than one at a time, but in the end, my curiosity and eagerness overcame my anxiety, and I soon had a rather large stack. I started to settle down on one of the plush chairs, but fear that a guest—or, even worse, one of my former fellow servants—might enter at any second paralyzed me, and made it impossible for me to relax. So, after a moment, and feeling awfully guilty yet nevertheless resolved, I gathered my new books in my arms and made my way back to the third floor as quickly as I could. The guard stationed at the door to the jarl’s apartment obliged me by opening the door for me—and soon I was back within the safety of my bed, my boots pushed off, books spread out before me.

I’m not sure how many hours passed while I lay there, happily engrossed in my new reading material. Eventually, however, the outer door opened and closed, and I heard the now telltale sounds of my lover removing his boots and cloak.

I looked up when he entered the bedroom, smiling when he paused and blinked at me in some surprise.

“Did you not go and meet the others for breakfast?” he asked.

“I did,” I said, sitting up, and I suppose it was rather silly of me to feel so pleased when he came and sat down beside me.

“But you are back here, in our room,” he said, gazing at me with some concern. “Were you unhappy? Did Lia or the girls upset you?”

“No!” I said quickly, anxious that he should think no such thing. “They were very kind. And Una showed me around the palace. She showed me the library!”

“…I can see that she did,” he said, eyeing the books spread out all over the mattress.

“Just…”

He looked at me again, waiting patiently for me to finish.

I fidgeted, feeling suddenly awkward.

“_Please_ don’t make me go back out again today. I don’t want to complain—and I’m not—it’s just—it’s very hard sometimes, you know, being who I am, and being with you, and now everybody knows it, and I just—

“Casien…”

He took my hand, my name on his lips halting my anxious diatribe. Our eyes met, and he smiled.

“I will never _make_ you do anything, little roebuck,” he said. He reached up with one hand to push a lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers stroking my cheek as he did—it was becoming a habit of his, though I didn’t mind, for it always calmed me.

“I simply wish for you to be happy,” he continued. “And for you to enjoy your life here with me.” He hesitated before adding: “I would not wish for you to feel trapped, or unhappy, or as if you had made the wrong decision in accepting me.”

“I could never feel that way,” I said, stunned that he would even think that possible. “About accepting you, I mean. I… don’t regret being with you, or saying ‘yes’ to you. I want to be with you. I _do_.”

He smiled, the relief on his face tugging at my heart.

“I am glad,” he said. “For there is nothing I value more than your happiness.”

It unnerved me when he said such things. I was still unused to being the center of another person’s world, and of a person so great as him—it sometimes felt wrong, as if I might suddenly wake up and find myself asleep in my little cot downstairs again, or even before Helgird’s fireplace. Too often, I felt as if I didn’t belong, like it wasn’t _me _who had chosen wrong; it was _him_.

And then he would look at me as he did now, after saying that sweet, unsettling thing. And his hand would squeeze my own before it rose to curl around my waist and pull me gently closer so that he could kiss me. And I would close my eyes, and press my lips against his, and breathe him in, and feel his solid warmth against my own.

And I would know that, yes, I was happy.

I would know that I belonged.


End file.
